When I'm Gone
by KamiNoMa
Summary: "In the end, even I am human, I guess.  Unable to control something that I desperately wish I could."  Despressing to an extent.


I disclaim Soul Eater.

Disclaim title, When I'm Gone, by Eminem

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Everyone has those things that irritate or hurt them the most, don't they? It's inevitable, I hear. I used to believe otherwise but now I'm not too sure. Heh. In the end, even I am human, I guess. Unable to control something that I desperately wish I could. It should be simple for a god to do what I want to but, no. Looking at her from my chair in the corner of the room, it hurts even worse because those soulless eyes just prove my fears right. Soulless. Yes, that's her problem. One that she can't fix or change and it tears – no. It already_ has _torn her apart. Her heart is broken, her soul withered, and her Soul gone. It hurts me that she is like this but it angers me that she has made herself like this for that one person. And to think all this began that day.

Shinigami had paired our two teams together on a joint mission. Locate and destroy a pack of menacing pre-kishin that was raiding the souls of villages of a desert-like community. Simple enough, it would seem. We had gone that very afternoon, Shinigami seeming very impatient that the problem be taken care of as soon as possible. To their credit, Shinigami and the Death Scythe did say that this was a relatively dangerous group of monster bandits but as usual I was ranting on about my mightiness. Ha. Well, I wasn't mighty enough, apparently.

We left Shibusen and arrived at our destination around noon the next day. Why it took so long I don't know but looking back, my paranoia makes me believe it was a freakin' omen from the real gods upstairs. Damn, I wish I could have listened. I decided upon the establishment of our dining, which happened to be having a buffet that afternoon. Sure, there were some creepy looking mugs in the multitude of customers but none of us really took notice of them, all being very hungry, tired and assured that the kishin were in the habit of attacking in the night. Only once did she mention that we might be being watched but no one took especial care to this and continued eating, me hanging an arm over her shoulders gaily, trying to irritate her. She took the bait and all was forgotten.

It was getting close to closing time, five and for some reason real early. We had left to gather information but then came back because, though we were getting suspicious and distrustful looks from some people, we had nowhere else to go and there were some people willing to talk to us. There was this tall, skinny green guy who never left though. He and his sickly looking pals remained all day, looking at us every now an then, as if gauging our every move. We were just deciding to get out and do another patrol when these guys got up and the doors all slammed shut, the lights went off. There were screams, curses - the group's signal to be ready for attack. Tsubaki stood to my left, poised to transform. On my right Maka's breath was tense and slow. I was about to say something, what I don't know, but then a terrible screech pieced the air and a blue soul appeared. It was instantly consumed by its killer, a smug snickering coming from that direction. Two flashes followed and our weapons had transformed for battle. Maka told me the situation. There were ten pre-kishin in the building and another eighteen outside closing in. There was probably no way to save the people within so we'd just attack right away. As we ran into opposite directions, going for the kill, those savages let out throaty calls and began shooting around wildly, human souls appearing as their bodies were killed.

"Hahaha. You little brats. I's a knew you were up to no gud. You's not getting away, tuhnight!" One of the kishin drawled out, apparently aiming for Maka as he ignored me and let his comrade with a machete deal with me. I was about to finish the punk trying to stab me and get the others off Maka's back when the rickety wooden walls of the shop burst in from all sides, ghastly looking bikers driving through. That was enough to bring the old building down on us and I could just make out our attackers hitching rides with their pals out of the crumbling mess. I cursed.

"Maka!" I yelled. "Soul!" I heard a cough ahead and found them under a medium sized beam. It was a cinch to pull it off and drag the dazed Maka out, Soul trying to get her to snap out of it with his incessant shouting from scythe form.

"Shut up, Soul! I hear you," Maka growled, rubbing her neck as we stopped outside.

"What the hell happened, Maka? You're not letting those little pansies get the better of you, are you?"

"Calm down, Black Star! We didn't see it coming; the fuckin' guy just bulldozed her with his bike. She can see souls, but not the ride they're on," Soul defended, turning human and looking Maka over. Tsubaki did the same, and tried to calm us down.

"Please. That's enough. What we should be worrying about is where they are now." We all immediately shut up and looked around to see no one. The building finally gave way and collapsed. The silence after was very ominous.

"Shit!" Maka muttered. "Let's go Soul. They can't have gone too far."

"Yeah," Soul replied, complying with her command. She stalked off and I had no choice but to follow her, now that she was in her pissed off, nobody-gets-the-better-of-me mood. This led to us searching for hours, Maka not giving up, Soul not bothering to tell her to stop. We were all tired though and unsuspecting of another surprise attack, which came duly. Just as we walked on to a larger dirt road a scratchy voice cried, '"Hey 'uns! O'er here!"' We all turned to see twenty-fuckin'-eight motorbikes charging towards us, some of the drivers firing pistols at us, others unsheathing lethal looking blades and others swinging chains above their head as if in a rodeo. There was no way we could outrun those metal monsters and neither could we get out of the way, their coverage of the area effectively trapping us. Behind me Maka cursed again, getting ready to attack.

"I guess we're gonna do this their way, then," I grinned, though uneasily. Tsubaki must have picked this up.

"Are you okay, Black Star?" She said, her reflection extremely worried in the blade I held.

"Yeah, yeah. Why should god be bothered, anyways? Let's do this quickly! Yahoo!" And so we plunged into battle, shouting, screaming, yelling and the whole lot of battle vocalizations. Within ten minutes I had taken down ten guys, going on to the eleventh. Maka had sliced through seven goons, an admirable number, I had thought, compared to her god. All was going well, everything was almost done with only six kishin left. I should have felt pretty relaxed but I was, on the contrary, very worried. I was taking on two with the machetes and Maka was easily taking on her four opponents. She was closing in on them, passing beneath a street light that seemed to flicker at her presence, again, as if in warning. It was then I noticed the sly , toothless grins of her prey and alas, I was too late to say anything. I had to turn around to prevent my head being sliced off and in that split second a catastrophe occurred. Some – _jackass_ – shot a nearby, stalled motorcycle and it blew up. It blew up like a nuclear bomb and it was scary to see how Maka's body flew across two streets and put a dent the brick wall that obstructed her. No doubt Soul would have cushioned the impact with his own body, had he not been caught off guard also. I stood for a second, staring as she didn't move. There were hearty jeers and cackling laughter in the background. I was more than angry. I tore the kishin beside me in pieces and was storming towards the souls Maka had been about to reap, not worrying too much about Maka because Soul had taken her side. I was going to gut them when Tsubaki cried out, in the direction of my teammates. The remaining kishin were hooting and hollering as a tall, pale-skinned, black-clad and voluptuous woman with burgundy red hair appeared around the corner, her attention trained on Soul and Maka. She had a pistol of her own in her painted hand, silver with gem studded butt and black engravings along the barrel. I won't ever forget that gun, not after seeing it a second time later. I can't even think of guns without grimacing, now. Maybe that's why I can't face the Thompsons, knowing the brutal lethality of their nature.

The device was pointed at Maka and Soul, who, wouldn't you guess, was trying to shield her. For heaven's sake, the dude was a scythe! Not a shield, so why did he insist on inconsiderately protecting Maka like that. Of course, I would probably do the same thing for her. That's what you do when you care about someone. Protect them with your life. That's what Soul was doing. And that's what he did, finally giving his life for his most precious person. Maka was unconscious and Soul looked livid. The woman grinned and placed her finger on the trigger, aiming at Soul now. She was pulling the trigger.

"Soul! Damn it, No!" I shouted, dodging my other enemies and speeding towards them faster than a bullet - but not faster than hers. She shot, not once sparing me a glance. The moment Soul took that shot, I took the woman's smiling head off. She twirled into a mist of black and purple and faded away, leaving an almost black soul with a crack in it. Not that I cared though. I was too busy watching my good friend's body droop lifelessly over an unconscious one, his terrifying red eyes still determined, even in death. I was silent. Tsubaki transformed into her human self, her shaking hands covering her gaping mouth, her eyes tearing. I was angry. I felt broken because I knew s_he _would be broken. I didn't cry, though. I completed the mission - no point not doing it - and took the most perverse pleasure in ripping the monsters to pieces, causing as much pain to their hell-bound souls and possible. After that, I came back, tore some cloth from who cares where, wrapped it around Soul's head to stop the careless bleeding – the red tears from a third eye - hoisted him on my back and walked off, Tsubaki following with Maka in tow. Somehow, we made it back to Death City – what a pleasant name – without Maka waking and without any need for words. I don't think either of us would have been able to speak without crying. Yes, even a great god like me wants to cry sometimes. That was one of those times. On arrival to Shibusen I gave Soul over to Sid, Tsubaki gave Maka to her father, assuring him, quietly, that she wasn't the one dead. The man was silent - as was everyone else in Shinigami's room - his eyes tamed on Soul in horror. I felt bitter. I cursed them all under my breath, and left. Tsubaki, thoughtful as she always was - even in her own pain, didn't follow.

I went somewhere far up above this mess. Somewhere the air could attempt to wipe the thoughts from my burdened mind. Soul was dead. I didn't want to but I had to acknowledge it. I couldn't deny it. And, even though I was horribly affected by the current situation, I was worried more over _her _response. Maka wouldn't be able to take it, I knew. I wanted to be there when she awoke but I also feared to see how she would break down when she did, when she found out the news. She'd probably die herself. I couldn't think of that. I went out further, into the desert, and began demolishing the tall, irregular monuments of stone. All of them I crushed to dust. I kept at it till early morning then decided to return home. Tsubaki wasn't home yet. She was probably, bravely, awaiting Maka's return to conscious. I decided to get rest, however uncharacteristic of me that was, and slept, thank Shinigami for at least one thing, without dreams. I woke up, needing to go see Maka.

Everyone was wary of my approach as I entered the infirmary. I knew Soul wouldn't be in here but glanced about anyways. I saw Tsubaki dozing in a chair beside a patient's bed. In that bed was Maka, her head partially mummified. She looked okay – for the moment. I moved closer to her bed and touched Maka's cheek. Tsubaki was now watching me sadly. I had the sneaking suspicion that I knew what her sorrow was, other than Maka of course, but I didn't think about it at that moment.

"Maka-chan might very well have a concussion, Stein-hakase said. She had a dislocated shoulder and a broker wrist and arm. Her cranium was cracked a bit and there are numerous fractures elsewhere. Stein-hakase said she got off relatively well than one would expect-"

"Really?" I cut Tsubaki off. "Does he really think or believe that? 'Cause if so he's crazier than I thought. We all know that she's the most unlucky person alive right now. It'll be hell for her that she's alive and _he_'s not. She's strong but I don't think that she'll ever recover from this." I looked away from the two girls' faces, glaring the paint off the wall instead. Tsubaki shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You can go home, if you want. I'll take care of whatever happens next," I mumbled, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite her, on Maka's right. After some consideration, Tsubaki left, patting my shoulders before doing so. I sighed and took Maka's limp hand, rubbing it softly and just waiting, terrified, for her to open her eyes.

People came in and out but I paid no attention. Kid and the Thompsons bashed through at one point and stayed a while, leaving just as Tsubaki returned, which was somewhere around four. Kid looked even paler than usual. I suppose it sucked being a shinigami. It was going on to eight when Maka finally moved. Her green eyes looked around dully, her brows where furrowed and her hands crept up to her throat as if there were a noose she was going to loosen.

"Maka! Are you alright?" Whispered her father. Everyone in the room remain quiet.

"Something's wrong," she croaked out, glancing about the room.

"Maka, do you know who I am?" Asked the concerned Death Scythe. This caused her to stop her search and look into his face. She frowned a bit more and replied,

"No." After one more sweeping glance she asked the dreaded question. "Where is Soul?" After that, it all went to hell. No one answered. They all tried to change the subject. I remained in a corner, silent. Maka was too smart to be fooled, even with a bump on her head. For an hour longer they tried to keep up the charade and all they accomplished was getting the girl irritated, confused and suspicious.

"He's dead, Maka. Gone," I said loudly over everyone's voices after she asked the forty-seventh time. I got a couple of accusatory glances but I didn't care. I met Maka's scrutinizing and scared look seriously. She got the messaged and began tearing up while begging to see him. When she got her wish, she cried harder and soaked the corpse's hair with tears of tragic love. She cried for weeks on end, having to be tranquilised just to get some sleep. She had to be forced to eat, her not having the strength after bawling 24/7. When she was finally let out of the infirmary two months later, a passerby could swear she might have gotten over the worst of it but Maka was hard to understand. Nobody knew she was hoarding depression and pain within her till seven months after the incident. God, I kick myself for brushing the signs off.

Maka slowly stopped hanging out with us after awhile. She preferred to sit alone at home. Though we objected to this and tried to visit, everyone just seemed to give up. I wanted to give her time alone. I think she knew what was in my soul, when I visited her and I think she hated me for such feelings in such a situation. I had to stay away. Being alone, of course, was not the best thing for her. She was losing weight she didn't have, apparently not eating, and she was accumulating inexplicable bruises all over her body. She was literally beating herself up over Soul's death. Her grades were dropping and she was skipping school. One day a group of us Shibusen students decided that I should go and check up on her, even if the last time Kilik tried her got a vase smashed upon his head. Yes. Maka no longer used her books to hit. I was almost reluctant to go but someone needed to and since Spirit wasn't admitted in the apartment anymore, it would have to be me, her friend from longer back. Looking back, I don't know if it would have been better had I not gone in . . .

I knocked on her door and turned the knob without waiting for a response. Maka never answered within an hour anyways. Everything was dark inside, the curtains being drawn shut. The place was a mess, clothes were everywhere. I stepped on shards of broken glass and mirrors, pages of torn books, spoilt packages of food, open but completely uneaten. A few useless candles stuff in the carpet. The place was a hazard. Maka wasn't anywhere around either. I checked her room, and then the kitchen, and then the bathroom refraining from Soul's bedroom because of an incident that had resulted in Maka hyperventilating and rabid with killing intent and Patty freaking out beyond her wits. No one was allowed in Soul's room but her and Shinigami only knew what she did in there. I guess I was going to find out too, for I knocked the door and, receiving no answer, turned – and broke – the locked knob. It was dark in here too, no surprise, but I could see Maka clearly and my hearts stopped beating for a second. She didn't look up from her kneeling position on the bed. Her hair was a mess, her eyes red, puffy and unseeing, her clothes torn and hanging and her exposed skin beaten up. All this was bad, but what shocked me was the gun in her hand. That same, gem encrusted gun that had taken Soul's life.

I wasted no time in wrenching the thing from Maka's hand and tossing it across the room, knowing exactly the idea she was fiddling with. I gripped Maka so hard I left blue prints in her sallow skin and I shook her, more out of fear than anger.

"What the hell were you doing?" I managed to choke out. "What?" She didn't respond but instead tried to get away from me. I shook her and demanded the answer again. Soul wasn't around to put sense into her bookworm head so I would have to, even if that would be too painful for her to think about. After what seemed like an hour, Maka whispered,

"I want to see Soul." There were no tears, just broken desire and passive determination to do just that. I let her frail form go and she slumped against me, no will to sit up, and much less to live. "Can I have that gun back, please?" That tore me up. I picked her up – she really weighed so little now – and brought her to shibusen where she was put under suicide watch. Attempts to restore her health were futile; her body rejected treatment and either deteriorated more if it didn't stay as it was. That's how she's been for a while now. And she's in a section of the infirmary made for her permanent residence a year and a half after the event, because no one can talk sense into her and no one has a clue as to what to do with her. The nurses are all tired of the lifeless – but breathing – form in that bed and no one but me comes to visit anymore.

And so, I'm still watching her from my secluded spot. Watch her once brilliant eyes blink slowly as it follows the happenings of another world far removed. Every now and then she gets that look that she does when she perceives souls and I wonder if she can somehow see Soul's soul – if it even does float around here anymore. Sometimes I want to cry, but I don't. I have no right. At least, that's what Tsubaki said before she left Japan and never came back. She said that it's not my fault she's Maka is like this and that I'll never be able to change that. She said I'm hurting myself by loving a soulless person. She said she loved me – and always would, but that she could see I could never get over the feelings I have for Maka. She thanked me for turning her into a death scythe – I did it before Maka was hospitalized for the second time – and hope I would take care of myself and that she'd keep in touch with Shinigami. Then she left, crying her heart out, that I said nothing to her the whole time she poured her hurting heart before me. How heartless of me. I take Tsubaki's word for it. I have no reason to mourn for Maka except, I loved her and who she used to be. Even if I knew she loved Soul and Soul himself had confessed having feelings for her to me when hanging out, I've always housed this little love for her. Sadly she has never been able to reciprocate it, even with her one, true love dead. I never had a chance but I still… want her_._

I looked up at the girl again and I am shocked to see that Maka is looking right at me, with those same soul-perceiving eyes. I hold her gaze until she breaks it to look decisively into space, as if receiving confirmation. She _smiles_ at me and says, her voice a faint sound,

"Come here, please, Black Star." I doubtfully went to her side and kneeled so she wouldn't have to strain her neck to look at me, something she seemed determined to do. "You're sad. I wish I could help but I'm sad too . . . I wish you'd help me." At this I pushed away from her, knowing what she's say next. She's been periodically begging the nurses to put her asleep, every time denied, and she has even asked me to snuff her out. I couldn't do that, not with the all of me.

"Maka, no. Don't even bother asking me."

"Please, Black Star. I'd do anything for you to do it. Have you never cared about me," Maka pleaded. "How about a trade?" I looked at her, taken off guard. Her gaze was compelling me to come nearer, which I did – if only to get that look off her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Simple," she whispered, stroking my hand weakly and sending shivers up and down my skin. "I give you me, and you can take my life afterwards."

"What? No!" I shouted as I backed up again. "No."

"Shhhhh! Please, Black Star, not so loud or a nurse will come. And why not? I'm willing and desperate for this pact. And I know you like me – Tsubaki said so before she left. So why not do this one thing for me, and for yourself?" Maka nearly cried and she tried to convince me. I couldn't answer, almost appalled with her desperation. I kept my distance and she leaned back, wearily. "You know, you kind of owe me. After barging into my apartment and cosci- conf-… confisticating my escape . . . whenever you did. And it's not like you'd be doing anything wrong. I live for nothing and all there is for me is this bleak room. It hurts a lot. All I ask you is for one little thing, but you refuse to be my saviour. Some god you are." She broke down and sobbed. I didn't move so she tried another tactic. "I'm going to die anyways you know, if I'm not already. It wouldn't be a problem to anybody if I went off tonight and I know _you_ could do it cleanly, being an assassin. And of course you'd take your compensation beforehand, so . . ."

Maka got out of bed, stiffly shifted her atrophied legs from underneath the covers, trying to stand. In no time I was pushing her back down into her bed, before some weird ailment could attack her from standing up. That's what she wanted, of course, and with what little strength she had left, Maka hooked her fingernails in my arms and held me fast. We kept like that for a while, me kneeling before her and her leant in towards me. Finally, she let go.

"Please," she said again, that seeming her favourite word now. "I'm all yours."

"Maka . . ." I sighed, defeated. She knew me too well and knew what I have wanted for so long. She was giving it to me too, not the whole thing, but some of it. "I love you, Maka," I said before taking her lips. I kissed her delicately, not wanting to hurt her any more than she was but she insisted that I do my worst, for her to feel accomplished. So, in a half-hearted, last ditch effort to convince her to live, I gave in. I loved her and whispered my undying love for her, ignoring her unresponsive silence. There was no pleasure - just an allusion of it - for myself, and absolutely nothing for her. I gathered that she could feel no pain, nor pleasure from anything I did. So was this how she was living all this time? With no feelings at all? Some life she had. I guess I really would be saving her.

Somewhere in the middle of our – _my_, she being passive – prolonged activity (she had insisted), she began to relate how excited she was for the coming end, how much she couldn't wait for it and she even began suggesting ways by which I could take her life. I tried to ignore her but her voice droned on. 'If I had any shuriken or maybe any plain knife with which I could just slit her neck', was her first idea. She thought maybe I could wring her out or just break her neck like a hunter would that of a dying gazelle. She said she wouldn't mind being strangled with a pillow except for the fact that that it'd take a while – but not that it mattered. She was still going on about those crazy things, oblivious to my stopping, when I pulled away from her. She slowed to a stop and looked at me, serious again.

"Are you sure this is how you want to end it?" I asked her tentatively, praying to God that maybe she would change her mind and maybe I could win her over. She frowned.

"Don't you dare go back on our deal, Black Star. You can kill me now," she said menacingly. All my hope from a second before vanished. I realised that I would not be able to leave her alone in the painless pain that I had finally understood. I leaned down, dejectedly, taking one last look into eyes that were already having problems focusing on me and not some ghost in the room. I stroked the side of her face with my left hand charged up my other with the power of my soul. I kissed her and told her I loved her again. Maka just patted my hand and looked elsewhere. I placed my hand over her heart and let go. She quivered as the shock coursed through her and she moved no more, a small smile peeking out of her lips.

Three years have passed since I murdered the body of that soulless girl. The girl who had lost her Soul. Buried in Hook, right beside her partner she is, and I visit them sometimes. I live alone, and work for the Shinigami, going where I must to get the job done. I work alone. Tsubaki got married with her parents' grace and has a little tyke named Hoshi. I think she's happy with the way her life turned out, even without me. And myself? I'm actually doing alright. I was walking in the streets of Valencia one summer day a year ago, and on my way to the airport when I caught a glimpse of a shock white and a sandy head further on. The blonde was laughing as she pulled the cheek of the boy beside her. They looked up at me shortly, grinned warmly and were gone within the next blink of my eyes. Shocked, but recovering, I had continued on, heart resting easier than it had for a _long_ time.

My best friend and my love were happy – somewhere - and so was I.

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_A/N: You probably hoped for LSSJ, or WLNL, right? Well, don't think of me as too malicious. This is an old file from who knows when and I finally decided to upload it. Something in_You Know You Trust You Partner _chap. 18 reminded me that I wrote on B*S once..._

_*****Oops. I put the unedited version up. It's been changed though. Sorry ^^;**_

_Too angsty?_


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